I Painted my Nails Instead
I had the manic idea to cut off all my hair and dye it pink but I decided to paint my nails and start a substack instead.
Journal Entry #339
The swallow meets the faceless figure in her journeys throughout Muktub. Muktub is Earth. Muktub is space. Muktub is anywhere. Muktub is apachupata. It is anywhere and nowhere that contains the human experience, the human emotion, the human wisdom. It is a land of adventure and finding yourself.
Why Do We Start Things?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been writing. I’ve been writing stories and poetry and journaling for nearly but never exactly 375 entries. I was always the creative kid. I was the one writing short stories instead of listening to the math lecture and doodling all over my science homework. Writing became a way to keep me sane. When I learned about poetry, it became the way my thoughts flowed through my mind. When I was getting ready to graduate the 5th grade, my parents attempted to get me into a prestigious arts school. However, on the second round of applications, I said the reason I wanted to go to this school was, and I quote, “My mom really wants me to go here.” I didn’t get in if you hadn’t guessed.
But, I think that’s how I’ve always felt about my writing… or all my arts to be honest. It’s this stream that is constantly flowing and evolving through my brain. Sometimes it comes together as jumbled ramblings. Other times it’s beautiful poetry you’d frame on your wall. Sometimes it’s a bit scarier than that. It’s this continuous line of dialog that is always flowing, and if it’s always flowing, what makes it so special? And if it is special, would people even want to read it? Does the world really want to hear the crazy internal dialogue that churns within me, sometimes making it onto paper?
Entry #299
Great loves of mine keep telling me to publish my poetry. Maybe that means something.
Maybe it did mean something. Maybe the work I was creating did in fact have something to it. But where would I put that? The first and only place that came to mind was in a book. Baby Maya had always wanted to write a book. I’d stare out the window on long car rides and instead of playing with my dolls or dozing off, I’d be imagining the first line of my autobiography.
So, I decided to write a book.
It was going to be called “Pockets of Poetry and Prose.” It would follow the last few months of my life, gaining insight through my poetry and journal entries. Those months had been filled with a wide range of intense emotions and important lessons. The intense highs of falling in love and the intense lows that come with chronic depression, set in the poetic land of Portugal (and my other adventures). However, I couldn’t seem to stop writing. The story kept growing and growing and expanding and adapting with me. I couldn’t pinpoint it. Every time I thought it would be ready to collect and prepare for publishing, something new would happen, and a whole new chapter would be born. This is why I find it’s nearly impossible to write about the non-linear path to healing. Because in the time it takes you to write it, your entire perception may be flipped.
So, it got put on the back burner, and I stopped writing in a way meant to be published. However, it’s the pieces that were never meant to be published, that had people telling me I needed to publish it. The back burner still burns, and it may still be brought to completion…one of these days. But for now, we’re going to experiment with this interesting new medium called substack.
Why Do We End Things?
I’ve never operated a substack before and to be honest, I’ve read very few substacks before starting this one. I have no idea how this will look. Heck - I don’t even know if I’ll stick to this. However, the one thing you can expect, is that it will evolve with me. Just like handwriting or the non-linear path to healing, I expect my expectations to change a lot throughout the course of this archive. Because that’s what this is becoming - an archive. A place to glimpse into the past when looking forward.
Sometimes it may be a long page of text of ramblings and rantings about god knows what. Other times it might be a cute little poem and a song. More often than not, it will probably include journal snippets. I’m looking into creating a paid newsletter filled with just poetry, but I’ll let you know more about that later. All I do know is that my writing has been demanding a new platform.
So, if you do know how Substack works, and have any feedback, send me a message or a hello, and let’s become friends if we aren’t already :)
Also, subscribe to follow along on this crazy journey of rediscovering my writing.
To end this beginning, here’s a poem from many moons ago, exploring the magical realm of “Muktub,” which this archive is now named after.
- yours truly, Maya Lynn <3